


forever in my mind (only you)

by Enigmatic



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Veterinarians, Cats, Fluff, Gentle Derek, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:03:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigmatic/pseuds/Enigmatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you think I’m going to let a vet who’s unfamiliar with my cat’s medical history manhandle her?”</p><p>Derek is about to say more, but another voice cuts him off before he can even continue.</p><p>“I’m pretty sure I can vaccinate a cat. I mean, I did spend the last eight years of my life in college to get my degree in Veterinary Medicine.”</p><p>Derek turns around, retort ready at the tip of his tongue, but it quickly dies when he sees the new vet.</p><p> <i>Oh.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	forever in my mind (only you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emilson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilson/gifts).



“What do you mean Deaton’s not here today?“

The receptionist averts his eyes and clears his throat, before busying himself by looking at the computer screen.

“Well, he called in a couple hours ago with a family emergency,” he says, fairly steadily given the twitchiness of his movements. Derek would be impressed if he wasn’t too busy being pissed off.

“Why didn’t you call me then? I could’ve just rescheduled instead of wasting my time coming here.”

The receptionist looks incredibly confused. “I… didn’t see the need to?” he says hesitantly, but quickly backtracks when he sees the murderous look on Derek’s face. “I mean, we have another vet here who can give, um—“ He peeks at his screen.

“—uh, _Pumpernickel_ her, um, shots.“ His face twitches as he reads the name.

Derek didn’t know a new vet had joined Deaton’s practice, but that hardly matters because—

“Do you think I’m going to let a vet who’s unfamiliar with my cat’s medical history manhandle her?”

Derek is about to say more, but another voice cuts him off before he can continue.

“I’m pretty sure I can vaccinate a cat. I mean, I did spend the last eight years of my life in college to get my degree in Veterinary Medicine.”

Derek turns around, retort ready at the tip of his tongue, but it quickly dies when he sees the new vet.

 _Oh_.

“But, y’know, semantics,” the man says, shrugging. His lips quirk in amusement.

The small smile makes Derek’s heart jolt and he can’t stop looking at the vet’s bright brown eyes. He thinks is mouth is slightly open.

Pumpernickel mewls mournfully, pawing at the bars of her cage.

.

Derek doesn’t like vets on a general basis.

It’s difficult for him to find one that is both truly dedicated to his cats’ health and doesn’t grate on Derek’s nerves.

(One vet recommended Hill’s Science Diet dry food for Moonlight when she was suffering from a blocked urinary tract. Suffice to say, the vet was never heard from again.)

Derek doesn’t particularly like Deaton as a person – his ridiculous impassive face and even voice always makes Derek paranoid that he’s judging all of his life choices, despite them never exchanging anything more than perfunctory words – but at least he knows his shit.

And he’s leagues ahead of vets who tried to proposition Derek with thinly veiled double entendres and animal puns.

He wishes he was joking.

(The entire experience was quite traumatising actually. He still cringes every time he hears the word _impale_ or _mate_.)

Derek doesn’t have high expectations of this new vet either.

.

“I’m Dr. McCall, by the way,” the vet says as he leads him to the examination room. “But call me Scott.”

“Derek,” he says stiffly and reaches out to shake Scott’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Derek,” Scott says with a bright smile.

Scott then lets go of Derek’s hand and picks up a chart. He scans it and says, “So today’s just a rabies shot for… Pumpernickel.” Derek can see his dimples.

“Did you, ah, name her?“ Scott says, his eyes shining under the fluorescent lights.

“No,” Derek says. “I adopted her. I didn’t feel the need to change her name.“

Scott nods as he puts on his gloves. He opens the cat’s carrier and Pumpernickel walks out. She starts to… _purr_?

Pumpernickel pushes her head onto Scott’s hand. She then falls to the side and bares her belly, rolling from side to side.

Derek stares. “What.”

“Wow,” Scott says, rubbing Pumpernickel’s belly. “She’s really affectionate, isn’t she?”

Derek stares at Scott with narrowed eyes. “Not exactly,” he murmurs.

That is, not at all. Pumpernickel _hates_ people touching her and would only be slightly less harsh when she was hungry.

Scott picks up a syringe eventually and Derek— Derek notices how his fingers curl around the tube, how soft his palms look and imagines how it would feel to have—

Derek clears his throat roughly, feeling his face heat up.

Scott starts prepping Pumpernickel’s hind paw when Derek decides to test him.

“Aren’t you going to inject her scruff?” he says, his tone decidedly even.

Scott pauses. “Well, for most other vaccines I would, but not this type. There’s a risk of a tumour forming with this one in particular, so we inject it in a place where it the tumour can be easily removed if it does develop, so… the back legs.”

“Ah.” He grudgingly gives Scott a pass in his head, because the vet before Deaton would’ve injected the rabies shot to Moonlight’s scruff had Derek not stopped him.

The shot only draws a short yelp from Pumpernickel, which is… unexpected, given how all her other shots were followed by an almost satanic yowling.

“There you go, girl. All done” Scott starts packing things away, and Derek needs to know—

Derek tries to sound casual. “What do you think I should feed her?”

Scott looks at him in confusion and then glances down at the chart on the table. “It says you’ve been sending Pumpernickel to Deaton for over three years now, so…”

Oh.

“Yes, but—” Derek stops. He… doesn’t really know how to save this.

The silence lingers awkwardly for a few seconds.

“Well,” Scott says slowly, “it would have to depend on your budget, but if you can afford it, wet food, definitely. From there, go with what’s in your price range and which brands your cat likes.”

Derek’s heart skips a beat.

.

Derek’s first cat wasn’t his to begin with.

His parents had bought a kitten for Cora for her sixteenth birthday; a decision that still made no sense to this day, especially since this was _Cora_ they were talking about. She was notoriously fickle and had a short attention span on top of that.

By the time Derek came home for the summer, Moonlight’s feeding and litter were handled almost exclusively by their parents. Cora’s contribution was merely a pat on the cat’s head once or twice a day.

The cat was starved for attention during his stay, mewing in the early hours of the morning and running frantically towards anyone passing in the hallways. Since Derek was often up early, he frequently played with Moonlight just after sunrise, making her jump after the laser pointer and watching her wiggle her butt before she attacked his hand under the blanket.

Leaving her for college was difficult, but doable.

The same could not be said when he came home during a break.

As soon as he passed through the doors, Moonlight was purring loudly, butting her head on his shin and pressing her little body against him. She mewled and walked over to the carpet before falling over and lying on her back, stretching her limbs out.

Derek was hopeless to resist this time.

.

Derek is scrubbing a litter box with a brush, hunched over a sink when he hears his name called out.

He turns and freezes.

Scott — _Scott McCall_ — is looking straight at him, a confused but pleasant smile on his face and Derek—

Derek is wearing a thick blue apron and bright yellow rubber gloves that go up to his elbows and he’s pretty sure there’s a smudge of brown on his shoulder.

“Scott!” he says, voice strained and high over the rumble of the dishwasher. “What are you doing here?”

 _Here_ , where he’s surrounded by the smell of cat piss and shit — a fact Scott just noticed judging from the wrinkling of his nose.

Scott gestures at the small building behind him. “I just started volunteering at the vet clinic at this shelter. I didn’t know you volunteered here too.”

Derek nods, a little speechless. Scott is looking—

He’s wearing a black shirt, and its collar is… low. Low enough that he can see his stark collarbones and Derek wants to lick—

Derek coughs. “Yeah, I do,” is his brilliant response. “I adopted my cats from here, so…”

“Wait,” Scott says, “how many cats do you have?”

“Five,” he replies, “and two foster cats right now.”

“Wow,” Scott says in awe. “That’s so cool! I wish I had that many.” Scott looks like he’s about to bounce. Derek flushes.

“I—” He looks down at his watch. “I would stay to talk, but my shift is starting soon.”

Scott looks genuinely disappointed, lips slightly downturned. But then he brightens and says, “Well, I guess I’ll definitely see you around then. Maybe after my shift?”

“Yeah,” Derek murmurs, “maybe.”

When Scott turns around to leave, Derek’s eyes involuntarily flick downwards.

He _knew_ that doctor’s coat was hiding a glorious sight and now it’s right in front of him, encased in tight, skinny jeans.

A soft sigh escapes his parted lips and he stares at the empty doorway for a few long moments.

.

“Hm, okay,” Scott says as he lets go of Swiss’ jaw. “The good news is that this is harmless.”

Scott pulls his gloves off and Derek quickly averts his eyes, not wanting Scott to notice them linger.

“So the black spots on his gums and nose are just these things called lentigo. It’s a completely cosmetic condition and Swiss should be perfectly fine.“

(Earlier, Scott had remarked on the name:

“Swiss… as in the cheese?”

“He’s orange and yellow and has stripes and swirls—” Derek says haltingly, feeling like an idiot because the explanation was _unnecessary_. “I didn’t name them, okay?“ he says quickly, his ears feeling hot.

Scott laughs and pats him on the shoulder. “There, there, big guy,” he says, grinning and Derek looks down.)

“If he starts showing signs of pain or distress around that area, then come back to me, but otherwise, he’s good to go.“ Scott frowns a little. “I feel kinda bad for charging you for a one minute diagnosis when I could’ve just told you it was all good from sight alone.”

Derek waves it off. “It’s your job. And it keeps my cats healthy, so I don’t see why I should mind.”

Scott nods, but he still looks troubled.

They put Swiss back into his cat carrier and just before he leaves, Scott grabs a hold of his elbow. “Wait, I got it!” He pulls out his pen and business card and quickly scrawls something on its back.

Then he presses the card into Derek’s hand.

“Here’s my number,” he says, eyes bright, “so you can get my opinion on things beforehand. Then I can tell you if it’s serious enough to bring them in or not.“

Derek stares down at the numbers in shock. “I couldn’t—“

Scott presses the card deeper into his palm and he realises with a start that Scott has yet to let go. “You can, and you will.” Scott smiles softly. “And this way, you can use the money you save on your foster cats who actually need it.”

“I—” Derek swallows. “Um, thank you.”

He stops now before he says anything else that could potentially embarrass him.

“No problem. Just text or call me anytime,“ Scott says, finally taking his hand off and shrugging, “about anything.“

Derek nods and walks out of the room, looking at Scott’s beaming face one last time over his shoulder.

The edges of the paper dig almost painfully into his palm and Derek resists the urge to punch the air once the door closes.

.

“Where’s my little pumpkin baby?” Cora croons as she checks behind Derek’s couch.

“Cora, go away. She doesn’t want you here,” Derek says tonelessly as he chops carrots, the words more routine than anything.

Derek had tried to stop Cora’s smothering of Pumpernickel back when he first adopted her, but it quickly proved to be a futile endeavour. Derek still has scars from Cora’s surprisingly sharp nails from all the times he’s tried to take the cat away from her.

“Pumpernickel…” Cora sings, her voice saccharine.

Derek looks to his left and sees the slight swish of a tail under the dinner table. Derek quickly averts his eyes, not wanting to give Cora any hint, but it’s already too late.

“There you are!”

Cora starts pulling chairs out from the table to get to the cat, but Pumpernickel was always a smart one and Derek’s sure she’s weaving through the chairs, trying to dodge Cora’s grabby little fingers.

He thinks Cora might’ve yanked her tail because he hears Pumpernickel hiss warningly. There’s a few rustles and a bang, interspersed with hisses and yowls.

Finally, Cora emerges victorious, clutching a wriggling tabby to her chest. “Baby girl thought she could get away but I always catch you, don’t I?” Her voice is sickeningly high and Pumpernickel snaps her sharp teeth at Cora’s nose.

 _I think my sister is trying to squeeze Pumpernickel to death_ , he texts to Scott after putting the knife down.

He looks behind him and Pumpernickel catches his eye, her blue eyes blown wide open over Cora’s shoulder as she implored him to help. Derek shrugs helplessly. He had talked to Pumpernickel about this before; the more she struggles, the tighter Cora’s grip will become.

Pumpernickel yowls in betrayal.

_omg shouldn’t you save her???_

Derek could picture Scott’s distressed face right now and he smiles.

 _I would try, but then_ I _would be squeezed to death, and what a tragedy that would be._

He had just pressed send when his phone is snatched away.

“Hey!” he barks. “Give that back, Cora!”

She darts away, one hand still holding Pumpernickel tightly. Pumpernickel’s claws are digging into her shoulder, but Cora doesn’t seem to notice as she scrolls through his phone.

“Ooh la la, who is this Scott McCall? Have you been holding out on us, Derek?” Cora’s smile is almost maniacal. “You know Mum would be very interested to know about—”

Derek leaps towards her and grips her wrist firmly, prying his phone away from her grubby hands. “That’s none of your business,” he says and he immediately regrets it. He should know better by now and any attempts to discourage her will just do the opposite.

Instead, she shrugs and goes to sit on the couch. Cora pulls her phone out and lets his cat wriggle out of her grip. Cora begins to type furiously. Pumpernickel sprints into the hallway, probably going to hide in his closet.

Derek should’ve known that was too easy because a few minutes later he hears her go, “ _Oh_. Scott McCall, veterinarian, huh?” His stomach drops. “You’re flirting with your cats’ vet,” she says, tutting. “Isn’t that an ethical or moral violation of some sort? Like banging your kid’s teacher or something?“

“Get out of my house and go find dinner somewhere else,” he snaps and she looks horribly smug and satisfied.

“I can’t say I’m surprised, though. I’m more surprised I didn’t see this coming. You literally won’t stop talking about your ridiculous cats over family dinner.“

Derek’s ready to drag her out of the door himself when his phone beeps. He quickly grabs it before Cora gets any ideas and unlocks the screen.

_well, in that case, you and pumpernickel should both come see me. just so I can check for internal bleeding. no charge._

Derek grins down at the phone.

“Pathetic,” Cora says, shaking her head.

.

Derek wakes up feeling like he’s being suffocated.

His hand gropes blindly at his chest and nudges the lump there. A few more pokes and Gary makes an affronted noise, using Derek’s chest to vault straight off the bed.

Derek spits stray cat hairs out of his mouth before he inhales deeply. He rubs his eyes and sits up, deciding to go brush his teeth to get the dry taste out of his mouth (and to wash out any hairs he missed).

Afterwards, he heads towards the kitchen for a glass of water and— stops. He stands completely still and he can hear… wheezing?

He walks towards the noise and is surprised to see Annabelle, crouched on the floor and the wheezing is coming from—

Derek quickly bends down and looks at his cat’s face. Her eyes are half-lidded and her breath is coming fast, sounding like there’s phlegm stuck down her throat. Derek sprints back to his room and snatches his phone of the bedside table, pressing buttons unseeingly before he raises the phone shakily to his ear.

“Ugh, mm ‘lo?”

“Scott?” he says and he thinks he sounds like he just ran around the block, but he’s not sure because he can hear his heartbeat in his ear.

“Mmf, D’rek?”

“Scott, Annabelle’s wheezing and her breaths are uneven—”

“Wait, what?”

“Scott, I don’t know what to do—”

“Derek!” He hears some rustling and when Scott speaks again, he sounds clearer. “Just… relax and repeat that again.”

He does, and then, “Scott, I don’t know how long she’s been like this— I haven’t seen her in hours and I was asleep—” He breaks off, unable to continue.

“Okay,” Scott says, “Okay. So the nearest emergency animal hospital is over an hour away, so… Meet me at the clinic as soon as you can, okay?“

“I— Okay, I can—”

“Derek,” Scott says, softly, gently, “I’ll see you soon.”

.

“Is she going to—” Derek chokes out.

Derek’s hands were unsteady when he placed Annabelle in her cat carrier and he was almost too unsettled to drive properly.

Scott was already there when he arrived. He threw an arm around Derek’s waist when he approached and took the carrier from him; guided him in.

“Her throat is swollen up pretty badly,” Scott replies, taking his gloves off and putting new ones on. Annabelle is lying prone on the table, falling easily when Scott gently nudged her. “That’s why she has so much trouble breathing. I need to bring the inflammation down as soon as possible.”

He starts taking equipment out of cabinets. “Do you have any idea what she might’ve swallowed earlier?”

Derek stares at the ground blankly. “No.”

She was fine when he saw her last, and he didn’t do any cleaning today and the chemicals were locked up tight in a cabinet—

“Wait,” he says, “the cats— they have a little flap, so they can go outside to their enclosure. My neighbour’s an asshole and he has vines climbing up the fence and it’s on my side of the house now—” Scott’s face is a little contorted, like he doesn’t know where this is going. “I’ve been telling him to cut it down forever but he says it’s too expensive and— Annabelle likes eating plants. He might’ve sprayed some herbicide and she—”

“Derek,” Scott says and his chest is moving rapidly, his breaths quick—

Scott is holding his cheeks and presses his forehead to Derek’s, almost to the point of pain. “Derek, calm down,” Scott says. “We’ll figure out what happened later but I need you to _calm down_ because Annabelle needs you and I need you so I can help Annabelle.”

Derek shudders and closes his eyes. Scott’s hands are warm against his skin.

Slowly, Scott backs away and Derek’s hands twitch, wanting to pull him back.

“Derek,” Scott says “This will cost—”

Derek cuts him off. “ _Anything_.”

Scott nods. “I need you to wait outside while I do this, okay?“

.

He doesn’t know how many minutes, hours pass before Scott sits beside him.

They’re quiet for a while.

“If I didn’t wake up—” Derek rasps.

“But you did,” Scott says forcefully, “and she’s going to be okay.“

Scott’s hand touches the back of Derek’s neck and squeezes lightly; Derek breathes out unsteadily.

After a few moments, Scott takes his hand back and Derek shivers, acutely missing his warmth.

Scott says, haltingly, “I know this is a pretty bad time to ask, but…”

Derek looks at him curiously.

“Well—” Scott winces slightly. “Once Annabelle’s settled in back home, that is, do you… want to go for dinner?”

Both of Derek’s eyebrows rise in surprise.

“Not necessarily tomorrow, or today, I guess,” Scott continues, and his eyes dart to the wall. “There’s this Chinese place close to my house that I go to all the time with my best friend—”

Scott cuts himself off and looks down at where Derek’s hand is grasping one of his.

“Is this a date?” Derek asks quietly.

“Yeah.” Scott’s head bobs, and then pauses. “I mean, if you want it to be.”

Derek’s silent, and then, he smiles. “Yeah,” he breathes, “it’s a date, then.“

And Scott’s face is like watching a slow sunrise.

.

.

.

Scott slowly comes awake to the feeling of something climbing up his body. His thigh twitches slightly and the movement stops. A few seconds pass and there’s some shuffling before he feels something rest on his thighs.

“Derek,” he whispers. “I know you’re awake; I can feel your hand moving on my chest.“ Derek is plastered on his side and he groans into Scott’s neck.

“Derek, your cat is slowly cutting off the blood circulation on the lower half of my body.”

“Mm, he does that.” His voice is deep and scratchy and his stubble grazes pleasantly on Scott’s skin. He shivers.

Derek lies there for a few more seconds before he slowly sits up. Derek was never the type to linger in bed unless he had a reason to.

(Scott could give him one, but with Gary’s tail swishing against his crotch, he’d rather not.)

He stretches and Scott sighs happily at the sight. He would kiss the triskele if he wasn’t, y’know, weighed down by a cat.

Derek turns around and smiles sleepily at him. “Morning,” he says before he bends down to kiss Scott’s forehead.

“Mm, hi,” Scott replies and reaches a hand out to touch Derek’s chest. “Have I ever told you how much I approve of your tendency to sleep shirtless?”

“Not nearly enough.” He presses his forehead to Scott’s for a moment. “C’mon, let’s go have breakfast. Neither of us has work and I have plans for today.”

Scott grins toothily. “Plans, huh?” He moves his hand up and Derek inhales sharply.

Derek looks a little conflicted, but then reluctantly take his hand off his chest. “Breakfast first, though. We missed dinner last night.”

Scott heats up and says, a little dazedly, “Yeah, we did.”

Derek smirks and runs a hand through Scott’s hair.

“Maybe you should bring breakfast up,” Scott suggests. “I mean, Gary seems to be comfortable.” The cat’s body is stretched out long and languid against the line of Scott’s thighs.

“Fine, then. I get more done without you there anyway. Plus, I need to go grind the turkey thighs down today.”

“Oh yeah, baby,” Scott breathes, “grind it _hard_.“

Derek throws a pillow at his face. “You’re such a child,” he says, unable to hide the note of fondness in his voice.

Scott clutches the pillow closer to his face to hide his grin. “I still can’t believe you _make your own cat food_.”

“Commercial cat food is packed full of grains as filler and cats are _obligate carnivores_ who need—”

Scott throws the pillow back in Derek’s direction. “No, I have heard this rant a million times. Need I remind you what I do for work?”

Gary meows loudly at all the movement and jumps off Scott’s thighs in an aggravated huff — except Gary’s hind legs were practically on his crotch and—

“Oh God, why,” Scott groans. He hates Gary and his ridiculously strong legs and tendency to use people’s fleshy bodies as springboards. His eyes are scrunched and he says, “I think my balls are bruised.“

He feels the bed dip— then, a hand trailing down his chest. Scott’s eyes pop open.

“I could kiss it better if you’d like,” Derek says lowly, his lips right at Scott’s ear.

“Uh,” he says, a little distractedly as Derek’s hand slips under his boxers. Then he groans. “Don’t you have, ah, cat food to make?”

Derek presses his lips against Scott’s, his tongue slipping in when Scott hisses. He pulls away only to trail kisses along Scott’s jaw, sucking lightly.

“Oh,” Derek says, and Scott can _feel_ his lips curved into a grin against his jaw. “I can think of something else to grind on.“


End file.
